For his new home, designer S. Russell Groves streamlines an apartment in a classic West Village building without sacrificing any of its old-world charm

Living Room

Living Room

Manhattan has plenty of residential buildings where a well-known minimalist designer like S. Russell Groves might feel at home. After all, he cut his teeth in the offices of Richard Meier, whose name is synonymous with stark architectural simplicity, and then with Peter Marino, creator of stores for Louis Vuitton and Chanel. So why not mosey over to one of Meier's glass towers on Perry Street and create a pad for himself so coolly Zen it hurts? But Groves's taste, it turns out, is more complex and diverse than can be summed up in a shiny new white-on-white aerie. Instead, he decided to bring his unique take on pared-down design to one of the city's most vaunted addresses, a 1931 Bing & Bing edifice in the West Village by the architect Emery Roth, who also designed the Central Park landmarks the Eldorado and the Beresford.

In the living room of S. Russell Groves's Manhattan apartment, the sofa, covered in a Rogers & Goffigon fabric, armchairs, in a Holland & Sherry fabric, and walnut side table are all his designs; the fireplace surround is travertine, the parchment-covered cocktail table is 1970s Italian, and the vintage wood-and-metal side table is by Milo Baughman. The photograph is by Bill Jacobson.

S.Russell Groves

S.Russell Groves

Overlooking the small, triangular park at Abingdon Square, the 17-story building has amenities that few in its quaint, townhouse-filled neighborhood can boast: protected views of lower Manhattan, an elegant lobby, and meticulous white-glove service. On top of that, it is a condominium, not a cooperative like most prewar New York apartments, so the ownership rules and regulations are less onerous. Little wonder that it is one of the city's most coveted pieces of real estate. "You tell people you live here, and they just sigh," Groves says.

For most of the tasteful, well-heeled sorts who move into a building like his, renovation is a no-brainer: They lovingly restore whatever damage has been done to the gracious plaster walls, columns, and ornamentation. Then they furnish in classical prewar style-perhaps some chintz, a bit of Chippendale, or a dollop of Art Deco. Yet while Groves has indeed embraced his apartment's lovely bones, he has done so with his own thoroughly modern twist.

Groves in front of a 1970s wall sculpture by C. Jeré; the Gino Sarfatti light fixture is from the 1950s, and the walls are painted Benjamin Moore's Simply White.